26 Freedom of Information R view Freedom from information Sigmund Freud’s name is scheiss in all the most fashion able intellectual circles nowadays, but very few challenge his notion of the unconscious error. How could they, when the phrase Freudian slip has entered the vernacular and comedians play with it, as in, ‘your Freudian slip is showing?’ Just as the unconscious slip is an index of what is really on your mind, so it is particularly apt that the collective attitude of government to an underpinning piece of modem democracy — freedom of information legislation — is given away by its own hand. Various cynics and commentators have labelled it the Freedom FROM Information Act, but it was only when the 1994 Sydney Yellow Pages actually listed the New South Wales legislation as the Freedom From Information Act that Freud’s ghost was heard chuckling deep within the bureaucratic machine. Similarly, just as Freud recognised the meaning of jokes beyond a good bellylaugh, so the Yellow Pages gremlin is a signifier of a deeper problem besetting contemporary Australian democracy. We have had a federal Fol Act for nearly 14 years and during that time all States and the Australian Capital Territory have en acted Fol legislation. The Northern Territory is the excep tion, although it does have a voluntary information access code for its bureaucrats. Politicians of all hues proclaim its importance to a liberal democracy. As recently as the federal election campaign, the then shadow Attorney-General, Amanda Vanstone, trumpeted its virtues in the Liberal-National Party coalition’s law and order policy, describing it as a ‘crucial means by which the government and the bu reaucracy are directly accountable to individuals affected by their actions’. Governments proudly point to the healthy number of people who use Fol legislation — nearly 36,000 requests were processed by federal agen cies in 1994-95 — and editorial writers in our daily newspapers periodically speak out against any apparent erosion of the Act’s power. This is all an elaborate sleight of hand. I’ve come to the conclusion, after a decade as a journalist using and writing about freedom of information, that as it stands we would all be better off without Fol Acts. At least then we wouldn’t be kidding ourselves, and allowing successive governments to get away with paying lip service to no tions of accountability and participatory decision making. At least then we would be able to see the true level of scrutiny governments allow and start agitating for it to be increased. At the moment, no one is saying this. Not the govern ments who know that by having Fol legislation on the statute books they look like the good guys. Not the opposition politicians; or not too loudly anyway, because they know that eventually they will gain office and then they would be getting hell from the opposition. Not the media either, because the vast majority of journalists never use the Act, and those that do have largely taken the view that it is better to have weak freedom of infor mation legislation than none at all. Nor the legal fraternity, or not so that anyone has ever taken much notice be cause their voices and submissions are always cloaked in mind-numbing legalese. And anyway, how do you get Fol up as an issue when it is abstract and complex? The short answer is you can’t. Freedom of information has never been an issue at the forefront of people’s minds. It should be. That information is power is so often stated as to be a truism, particularly in the 1990s when the buzz phrase of the day is ‘information superhighway’. The fact that the overwhelming surfeit of information is a core problem today obscures the value of information. You can see this quickly and clearly by looking at socie ties where information has been made scarce. The Polish journalist and writer, Ryszard Kapuscinski, writes in his most recent book, Imperium, of his journeys through Russia and surrounding countries during the collapse of the former Soviet Union. In village after village he meets people who have little or no idea of what is happening outside their own small world because neither the com munist regime nor the government-controlled media are disseminating any meaningful information. Kapuscinski notes the numbing effect of this on many of the people he meets, who have grown up without the habit of either questioning their rulers actions or even wanting to find out what is going on. Similarly, Mitchell Stephens writes in A History of News (1988) that so deeply ingrained is the modern acceptance of the value of abundant, accurate, timely information that we forget just how modern a phenomonen it is. Systems for spreading news and information were far cruder and slower 200 years ago. News of the peace treaty struck between the English Government and the American colonies to end the war of inde pendence took weeks to spread throughout the colony. It arrived too late to prevent the Battle of New Orleans in which 2000 soliders needlessly died. So, if these examples allow us to see the potency of information, what has happened to Australia’s various Fol Acts? The answers can best be found by looking at the way in which freedom of information came about in this country and how it has been slowly but surely stran gled. Tom Riley, an international Fol authority, has noted that tension between governments and the people over how much the former should tell the latter about its activities has existed since the start of democracy. Bureaucrats of the ‘Yes Minister’ school firmly believe the less the public knows the better, and while most European countries have Fol legislation now, it is not surprising to learn that English governments continue to stonewall its advocates. It was the passing of freedom of information legislation in the United States in 1966 and the growth of the consumer rights movement there that prompted a push for Fol legislation in Australia. It is a measure of the entrenched assumption of secrecy within government and bureaucracy (inherited, need I say, from England) that it took a decade and a half before Fol became law in Australia — December 1982. The Act gives people an enforceable right of access to government documents, except for those that fall into certain specified categories. Its aims were to: • improve the quality of decision making by removing unnecessary secrecy; inform people of government functions and decisions which affect them, and of the criteria which were applied in making those decisions. develop political democracy by giving more opportu nities for public participation in decision making, and Fr edom of Information R vi w Freedom of Information Review give people access to the personal records kept by government to enable them to correct any information which was untrue or misleading. The importance of the principle of government ac countability was implicit rather than explicit in the Act. It is really in only one of these broad aims that Fol has been successful, and that is in giving ordinary people access to personal documents about them that are held by various government agencies. Indeed, approximately nine out of every ten Fol requests in both federal and State Acts are for personal documents held, most com monly, in the Departments of Social Security, Veterans Affairs, Immigration and Ethnic Affairs and the Australian Taxation Office. Overwhelmingly, people are granted ac cess to these documents, and whenever government ministers are criticised about excessive secrecy they pluck out global statistics showing that in the vast majority of cases Fol requesters are successful. What could be more democratic than that, they ask? Well, if you couldn’t get hold of documents about yourself held by people whose salaries you pay for through taxation, what could you see? That it is almost universally accepted within bureaucracy that ordinary citizens have the right to see their own personal docu ments is an important improvement, but really it is the thin end of the wedge. It is, by and large, unthreatening for bureaucrats and governments to release a person’s file. Allowing people to actively take part in and scrutinise the government decision-making process, however, is threatening. And, of course, there is a very good reason for this: no one, least of all government ministers, like to see their shortcomings aired in public. It takes a rare politician — Sir Humphrey’s term for it was ‘courageous’ — who will do this. That is the reason why over time various checks and balances have been built into the democratic system. Over the past 14 years there have been numerous examples where ordinary citizens, journalists, public in terest groups and opposition politicians have vigorously used freedom of information legislation to hold govern ments accountable for decisions, but what has to be faced is that from the outset there were too many obsta cles to acquiring documents and not only have these not diminished since 1982, they have grown. As Paul Chad wick noted in his pioneering 1985 book about the legis lation: ‘Fol rights are like a treasure which has been put on a pedestal. The pedestal is too high, too smooth to climb and ringed by a wall, a moat and a swamp.’ From the outset, there have been problems for those wanting to use the act. There are too many exemption clauses — 20 in all — which have severely limited the range of documents available for public scrutiny. Second, the Act , with some exceptions, has been interpreted conservatively by the judges of the body that hears Fol cases — the Administrative Appeals Tribunal. Third, the ingrained secrecy within the bureaucracy has run counter to the spirit of openness expressed in the Fol Act. While some bureaucrats have administered the Act fairly, it was disturbing to read the comprehensive February 1996 review of the Act by the Australian Law Reform Commis sion and the Administrative Review Council which com plained of a still prevailing ‘secrecy regime’ within the bureaucracy. Indeed, faced with some of the review’s proposals for reforming Fol, various departmental sub missions asked that agencies ‘be given more time to Numb r63, Jun 1996 27 embrace the Act’. This, for a piece of legislation that predates the Hawke Labor Government! But if many bureaucrats have been slow to clasp Fol to their bosom, they and their political masters very quickly saw its potential to embarrass governments. The history of Fol in Australia is of reforming opposition parties who have been in the political wilderness for long periods coming to power on the promise of bringing in strong accountability measures only to win government and gradually wind back the Fol Acts they introduce. Federally, although the Act was eventually introduced by the Fraser Coalition Government, the initial impetus came from the Whitlam Labor Government, which had spent 23 years in opposition during the Menzies era and beyond. In Victoria, Fol was introduced by John Cain , whose Labor Party had been in opposition since 1955 and who was trenchantly critical of purportedly corrupt ‘land deals’ by the Liberal Government in its final years. In NSW, Nick Greiner brought in Fol in 1989 after railing about endemic corruption within Neville Wran and Barrie Unsworth’s Labor Governments of the 1970s and 1980s. In Western Australia, Fol was passed in 1992 in the wake of the Royal Commission into WA Inc., and in Queensland, Labor’s Wayne Goss came to power after his party had been in opposition for 32 years. In the furore surrounding the institutionalised corruption revealed by Tony Fitzgerald QC in his exhaustive inquiry, Goss prom ised to unflinchingly implement Fitzgerald’s wide-ranging reforms, which had included freedom of information. In Tasmania, the independent Green MP Bob Brown seized the opportunity of the Green-Labor accord Government to push through Fol in the early 1990s. This pattern over time can be seen most clearly in the case of Victoria. John Cain was the first State premier to introduce Fol — in 1983 — and he soon came to loathe it, for the then Liberal-National Party opposition (as well as several journalists) used it unrelentingly over the next eight years to bring to light documents that scrutinised the workings of his Government. Every time the Govern ment knocked back one of their requests, the Liberal-Na tional Party opposition would shoot off a media release denouncing the Government’s intolerable secrecy. Sprin kled through these releases were phrases like ‘stench of corruption’ and ‘open government is the cornerstone of democracy.’ In the last year of the Cain-Kimer Govern ment alone, the opposition fired in 1683 Fol requests, a 25% increase on the previous year. Then in 1992 Jeff Kennett’s Liberal-National Party coalition steamed into power, at least partly on the strength of the revelations they had forced under Fol about Labor. Within a month of assuming office, the Kennet Government had passed legislation that meant any State Government business enterprise was totally exempt from scrutiny under Fol and a few months later it used its majority in both houses of parliament to ram through changes to Fol that have rendered the Act virtu ally useless. Kennett’s behavior is perhaps the most breathtaking example of what has happened in most jurisdictions, which have seen the Fol Acts gradually weakened. How Fol has be n w akened This weakening has been achieved in three main ways. First, by charging applicants for the right to use Fol. It is an index of the extent to which governments have man aged the Fol agenda that it is largely forgotten now that use of the Act was not only free but that this concept was 28 embedded in the very name of the Act. In 1986 the federal Labor Government introduced fees and no government that has subsequently brought in Fol has seen fit to reverse this trend. They have all trotted out the same accompanying rhetoric, namely that Fol should be ad ministered as far as possible on a ‘user-pays’ principle. This is an nicely convenient argument. In Victoria, for instance, Fol costs around $3 million annually to admin ister. Compare that with the $75 million spent each year by government departments providing information bro chures, booklets etc. to the public. As Paul Chadwick says, Fol is by definition raw, unprocessed documents that individuals specifically want to see. Government brochures, on the other hand, tell people only what governments want people to know— whether they asked for the documents or not. But it costs $30 to make an Fol request, $40 to ask for an unfavorable decision to be internally reviewed and a further $300 to appeal to the Administrative Appeals Tribunal. Then there are legal costs if the applicant wishes to be represented and even more costs if further appeals are necessary. At the end of all this the applicant could well not even gain access to the documents. With the exception of news media companies and political parties (in opposition), few can afford such outlays, and even these two groups do not have unlimited funds. Governments, by contrast, seem to feel no compunction about fighting Fol cases all the way to the High Court. Second, these champions of reform have widened even further the already gaping exemption clauses. The favorite one to attack is the Cabinet exemption, which exempts from public access any document that has been prepared for Cabinet submission or which would reveal the deliberations of Cabinet. It is one of the few exemp tion clauses which covers a class of documents and which cannot be overturned by applying a public interest test — that is, is there an overriding public interest in releasing these documents? — because of the principle of Cabinet solidarity that is enshrined in the Westminster system. Cabinet discussions will only be free and frank if they are protected from public access. This may be fair enough, although some question the seriousness with which some politicians treat Cabinet solidarity when they will leak confidential material to journalists when it suits them. Be that as it may, one sure way of withholding documents from the public gaze is by working them into the Cabinet process and by widening the Cabinet exemp tion to include not just specifically prepared Cabinet documents but any document that is seen by Cabinet. Already, Dr Spencer Zifcak, a legal academic at LaTrobe University, believes such tampering with the Cabinet exemption seriously undermines the Fol Act’s validity. This is precisely what the Kennett Government in Victoria has done and the Goss Labor Government did in Queensland within three years of bringing Fol to the Sunshine State. The third means by which Fol has been diminished has been the gradual leaking away of bodies and agen cies which are covered by the Act. From the start intelli gence agencies such as ASIO and ASIS have been exempt from public scrutiny, but increasingly govern ments have passed separate legislation to put specific agencies beyond the reach of Fol. In Victoria, for in stance, the Kennett Government has placed a number of government business enterprises outside Fol’s orbit, in cluding the Australian Grand Prix Corporation. Fr dom of Information R view At the same time, the trend in government during the late 1980s and early 1990s to put various government agencies on a business footing or to privatise them altogether has meant a sizeable and growing proportion of government is no longer covered by Fol. Nobody is quite sure how much. The Australian Law Reform Com mission’s 1996 review of the Fol Act provided a list of government business enterprises but said “there is cur rently no general rule or policy governing application of the Fol Act to GBEs.’ Among those that are completely exempt are: Australian Defence Industries Ltd; Avalon Airports Geelong Pty Ltd; Qantas Airways Ltd; Common wealth Bank of Australia; ANL Ltd; Australian Industry Development Corporation; Australian National Railways Commission, and the Pipeline Authority. Others, such as Telstra and the Australian Postal Corporation are largely exempt. Now, the argument put forward by these government enterprises is that because they are operating in the public marketplace it would disadvantage them to be subject to Fol (they say their business competitors could gain access to commercially sensitive material), but when will it stop? To what extent is exposure to private competition of these enterprises being monitored and to what extent are they using this rhetoric to escape scrutiny under Fol? Have they been totally privatised? That is, do they not depend at all on taxpayers’ money, because if they do, or if they are able to gain commercial credence from the solidity associated with being part of the Gov ernment, shouldn’t they retain some measures of public accountability? The Australian Law Reform Commission and the Ad ministrative Review Council’s thorough 18-month review of the federal Fol Act was tabled just days before Paul Keating announced the 2 March election. Among its 106 recommendations were many aimed at strengthening Fol, such as appointing an Fol Commissioner to oversee adherence to the Act, reducing the number of exemp tions, making the Act’s aims more aggressively pro-dis closure and capping Fol fees and charges. With Labor’s demise, the report is now waiting the attention of the new Liberal-National Party Coalition Government, which had at the time of writing not formally responded. If the progress, or rather regression, of freedom of information in Australia over the past 14 years is any guide, don’t hold your breath. As Tony Fitzgerald re marked in his report on corruption in Queensland, ‘The importance of Fol legislation lies in the principle it es pouses, and in its ability to provide information to the public and to parliament. It has already been used effec tively for this purpose in other parliaments. Its potential to make administrators accountable and keep voters and parliament informed are well understood by its support ers,’ and, he adds, with judicial even-handedness, by its ‘enemies’. M ATTHEW RICKETSO N Matthew Ricketson is a freelance journalist and senior lecturer in journalism at Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology. Fr edom of Information R vi w
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